by Kathryn Ridall
the daffodils now appear,
strewn across
our spring yard
winter has been
a hazardous affair
the only birdsong
the hoarse rasp of crows
for months I have scrawled
on crumbling pages
with elusive script
now spring opens her yellow doors,
I want for a moment
to forget
how earth’s crust heaved,
cities rattling
like bags of bones
how the sea rose
and a proud people
was submerged
then poisoned by fuel
meant to aid
now is the time
of spring’s awaited
redemption—
a dollop of sunlight,
the flowers with bright
lamenting faces
Kathryn Ridall is a poet from Eugene, Oregon. She is the author of the chapbook, The Way of Stones, and editor of the poetry anthology. When the Muse Calls: Poems for the Creative Life.
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